


If Someone Asked Me

by LUZ_DE_ROC



Category: Acacias 38 (TV), Maitino - Fandom
Genre: Bathtubs, F/F, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Podcast, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LUZ_DE_ROC/pseuds/LUZ_DE_ROC
Summary: Post-Podcast Episode #4 ("Celos")Maitino. Bathtub. Need I say more? One Shot.
Relationships: Maite and Camino, Maitino - Relationship
Comments: 15
Kudos: 58





	If Someone Asked Me

**Author's Note:**

> We've all heard the podcast preview. And something about Maitino in a bathtub broke my brain.
> 
> This could also be titled "What Two Suggestive Lines of Dialogue Can Do to a Fandom (or One Fic Writer)." 
> 
> So without further ado....

I test the temperature of the water with the tips of my fingers, and deem it perfect. I place my robe on the wall hook and grab a towel.

If someone asked me a year ago what it meant to relax, I probably would have told them that it meant an afternoon off from the restaurant, a pleasant walk in the park, or being left alone for a few hours to read a book. Sometimes it meant spending the afternoon with Cinta in idle conversation.

But today, it means a bathtub.

I slip into the nearly scalding water with a sigh. It almost hurts as I submerge myself, but the heat enveloping my aching muscles is delicious, and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. I rest my arms on the lip of the tub, and drop my head back against the towel I placed there. Everything is quiet around me except for the gentle slosh of water, and I close my eyes and breathe.

I almost don’t hear Maite come in, but the quiet creak of the door gives her away. I keep my eyes closed, but a small smile tugs on my lips.

“Hola,” I say softly.

“Hola,” I hear in reply, as she steps into the room and starts moving around. She’s been in the back room painting most of the day, and I listen to the sounds of her washing paint off her hands and brushing out her hair so she can tie it back loosely like she usually does at night.

“How was your day?” she asks as she goes about her tasks.

I groan in response.

“That bad, eh?”

I crack an eye open and see her turned toward me.

“Mmmph,” I respond in the affirmative, before shutting my eye again. “Professor Bernard had us painting this awful still life for hours. I thought my hand was going to fall off it was so cramped. And it was ugly on top of everything else.”

“You didn’t use to mind painting still lifes.”

“Maite,” I explain, “Professor Bernard is hardly a beautiful brunette who is slowly seducing me. Professor Bernard is the guy you warned me about – a middle-aged fat man with dirty fingers who wants to torture the entire class into giving up.”

Maite laughs lightly.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you. I was trying to do everything _not_ to seduce you.”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, rolling my neck slightly to work out the kinks from standing in front of an easel for hours. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but you didn’t do such a good job.”

I hear the rustling of Maite’s skirt, and then her voice is nearer.

“I’m sorry you had a rough day, amor mío.”

This time I open both my eyes to find Maite perched on the edge of the tub, looking down at me. She strokes her fingers tenderly along the back of my hand, and I have the distinct urge to purr at her touch.

I shrug a little.

“It’s okay. I _am_ learning a lot. It’s just overwhelming sometimes.”

She leans forward and touches her lips softly to mine before straightening back up.

“I’m very proud of you, Camino. I know this isn’t easy – a new life, a new language, new people. But I knew you would thrive here. And I know some of your classes are tedious, but they _will_ help, you’ll see.”

I nod. “Lo sé.”

Maite’s fingers leave my hand to dip slightly into the water. She raises her eyebrows at me. “That’s not too hot?”

I shake my head. “After today, it feels good. Everything hurts.”

“Hmmm,” she says, and it is then that I notice her eyes leave mine to move distinctly over me, moving from my torso down my legs and back again. A pleasant hum takes up residence in my body, and I smile at her coyly.

“Qué miras con esa cara? Acaso te quieres meterte conmigo en la bañera?”

Maite meets my eyes, hers bright with amusement at having been caught.

“Me quedo embobada mirándote.”

If someone asked me a year ago what it meant to tease, I probably would have said it was something siblings do when they’re giving each other a hard time, or what friends do when they’re trying to get information about a classmate the other likes.

Today it’s the effortless push/pull that exists between Maite and me, the way we can easily go from talking seriously to falling into the constant undercurrent of suggestion that runs between us. It seems to always be right there, ready to be acted upon should both of us agree to do so. 

I take up the thread without missing a beat.

“You could keep looking or you could actually be helpful.”

A single eyebrow rises at my suggestion.

“¿Ah, sí? And what do you need help with, exactly?”

I nod my head in the direction of the sponge sitting on the opposite lip of the tub.

“I always have a hard time reaching my back.”

“I could see where that would be a problem,” Maite agrees.

“Entonces me ayudarás?”

Maite shrugs casually.

“Depends. What do I have to do?”

I meet her gaze.

“Well, it’s a job best done up close.”

Maite nods, mulling over my suggestion.

“I see. How close?”

I look down pointedly at the water in the tub and then back up at her.

“ _Close_.”

“Ah. And is a uniform required for this job?”

I grin.

“Definitely no uniform. We like to keep costs down on this job.”

“Pues, en ese caso…” Maite stands up, and I am treated to one of my favorite sights as Maite slowly undresses in front of me. The pleasant hum running through my body rises a notch as one by one Maite’s clothes fall to the floor and she is soon standing bare in front of me. “…Accepto,” she concludes.

If someone asked me a year ago what beauty was, I would have given some typical explanation, one found in a dictionary, or a generic explanation of a sunset or bouquet of flowers or some famous painting.

Today it is this woman standing in front of me. And not just her body, though that is indeed beautiful, with its athletic form and soft curves and skin I will never get tired of touching. No, her beauty is in her trust in me, in her openness to share herself when I know that it’s not easy for her to be vulnerable again, in the control she is willing to give up in order to gain something that is so much more.

My eyes take her in and I’m at a loss for words. Her mouth quirks as she steps toward the bathtub.

“Slide forward, Camino,” she instructs. I feel a shiver run through me, but do as she says, sitting up and pulling myself forward in the tub.

A moment later, Maite steps in and lowers herself behind me, her legs settling on either side of mine and her hands land on my waist, tugging me back against her.

“Now,” she says, her mouth at my ear, “Shall we take care of your problem?”

My eyes fall shut at the warm timbre of her voice, and I let out a shaky breath.

“I think I have more than one problem,” I confess.

Maite chuckles softly and leans forward to reach for the sponge. As she does, I feel her breasts press against my back, and I bite my lip to stop myself from the groan rising in my throat.

“One problem at a time,” she says as she dips the sponge in the warm water. A second later, I feel it scrubbing against my back, and I have to admit that the effect Maite has on me is set aside for a moment as she works the sponge into my strained muscles, and I lean into her touch, not suppressing the groan this time as the tension begins to leave my body.

Maite runs the sponge over the entire plane of my back, but she soon abandons it in favor of her fingers, and she kneads them carefully into my back and shoulders. The heels of her hands push into the tighter spots until I sigh, the knots in my muscles relaxing.

“Mejor?” she asks, her palms coming to rest on my shoulders.

I nod.

“Mejor.”

“We’re going to have to work on your painting stamina,” Maite says as her fingers begin drifting down, tracing delicately over my shoulder blades. A moment later I feel her mouth press against the base of my neck and then she begins to place slow kisses across the top my back. The hum that was set aside a few moments ago comes thundering back.

If someone asked me a year ago what desire meant, I would have probably said it meant wanting something you can’t have – something unattainable and out of reach. I remember wanting dresses we couldn’t afford, wanting to spend time with friends rather than working, wanting a life other than the one I seemed destined to have.

But today desire is continuously wanting the thing I know is mine. It is never having enough of Maite’s touch, of her body pressed against mine, her voice murmuring in my ear as her hands sketch lines of fire over my skin.

I find myself nearly panting as Maite pulls me gently back against her.

“I think my stamina is just fine,” I answer as I lean back, her chest pressing against my back once more. I whimper as I drop my head back onto Maite’s shoulder. Her hands begin to slide around my waist.

“Let’s find out,” she whispers as her hands rise over my ribs to close around my breasts.

I gasp and turn my head immediately.

The need to kiss her is so intense, I think I might scream. Her hands squeeze gently and I moan again, but it is lost as my mouth finds hers. The angle isn’t the best and I don’t want to twist my body too much for fear of losing contact with her hands, but I kiss her nevertheless, my tongue darting out and finding hers. I reach my hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as best I can, her mouth equally insistent against mine.

Meanwhile, Maite’s hands continue their chosen task as she finds my nipples with her thumbs and forefingers and begins slowly and deliberately rolling them. She does it with the full knowledge that this alone can be my undoing, and I abandon kissing her in favor of the curse word that leaves my mouth.

I hear Maite huff in amusement as she comments, “Such language.”

“You’re one to talk,” I barely get out as her fingers increase the pressure just enough for an intense shock of arousal to run down the length of my spine and settle low in my belly. I shift helplessly, causing warm water to lap at my skin.

“Hush,” she returns, and this time she leans forward to place open kisses along my neck, sucking gently every so often. My hands grasp at the edges of the tub, and I grip tightly as Maite continues this assault on my senses.

“Maite,” I plead, even though I know it’s likely to earn me a teasing remark. Her palms continue to brush over taut flesh and I shamelessly press further into her hands.

“I thought we were working on stamina,” she murmurs even as her tongue begins to trace the shell of my ear.

I can no longer keep my eyes open as I tilt my head in response to the feel of her breath.

“Later,” I breathe.

I feel Maite smile against my ear.

“Later,” she agrees.

Her left hand remains at my breast, continuing its purposeful kneading, but her right hand begins to drop down, sliding over my torso and then below the water and over my upper thigh. And just when I think I may shatter simply at the mere anticipation of her touch, her fingers dip between my legs. I cannot stop my hips from rising to meet them, and I cry out at the first contact.

“¿Estás bien?” Maite asks, her fingers moving ever so gently against me.

“Sí,” I answer with stuttered breath. It is the only word I can manage to say, and I sincerely hope she doesn’t ask anything further. But I need not worry because Maite understands me perfectly, and she responds with her touch. The sweep of her fingers against me is confident – she has learned what I like, we have learned together, and she now knows how to make me lose control…or keep me hanging on the edge. And in accordance with her mood tonight, she chooses the latter.

If someone asked me a year ago what physical pleasure was, I would not have been able to say as it was something I had yet to experience. It was a vague concept to me, hinted at through snippets of conversation I overheard, whispered about discreetly between friends. And with the one experience I had, of forced submission at the hands of someone who had no regard for me, it was something I assumed was for other people.

But today it is this – improbably and delectably suspended between agony and bliss, like a diver the moment she jumps off the board before gravity takes over.

My body feels hot in a way that has nothing to do with the water in which I’m half submerged and my hands drop to Maite’s thighs, my fingers digging into her skin hard enough that they will likely leave marks. My breathing is short and shallow and I’m arching into Maite’s hands as my head is bent back over her shoulder.

I feel the intense crackle of release approaching like a rising tide. Still Maite is relentless, stretching out the inevitable until the last possible moment, her touch driving me higher and higher.

And then not even she can hold me together as I tumble over the edge. A sound I almost don’t recognize as my own comes from deep within me, and I’m bursting into what feels like a million different pieces. And Maite’s arms are wrapped tightly around me, her voice low in my ear murmuring “amor mío” like a mantra.

If someone asked me a year ago what love was, I’m not sure I would have had a complete answer. I may have repeated what I’d read in books or what my brother told me. I could have said I loved my family, and I loved my friends. I might have said it was a warm feeling, a feeling that denoted someone’s special standing in someone’s life. And I would not have been wrong, but I would have been missing the things I did not yet understand.

Now love is Maite. It is coming apart in her arms and trusting that she will be there to catch me. It is the comfort of her embrace and her confidence in me. It is the encouragement she gives me to be exactly myself and find my place in this world. It is quiet nights drinking tea together and it is waking up every morning with her by my side.

Love is this new life together, of excitement and uncertainty, beauty and desire, challenges and achievements. It is the future I’ve chosen.

And I am home.


End file.
